


cyberian roulette

by DesertLily



Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: An AU backstory for Nastya, Angst, Betrayal, Blood, Blood and Injury, Character Death, Gen, Gun Violence, Hurt/Comfort, Revolution, Russian Revolution, Russian Roulette, Violence, Whumptober, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-16
Updated: 2020-10-16
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:47:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,395
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27050665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertLily/pseuds/DesertLily
Summary: Anastasia Romanov is executed with her siblings during the Cyberian revolution. But she does not lose her will to survive; her want to live. She doesn’t lose the chance to become Nastya.
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville & Nastya Rasputina
Series: Whumptober 2020 [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946296
Comments: 2
Kudos: 24
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	cyberian roulette

**Author's Note:**

> I studied the Russian Revolution for both GCSE and A-Level, and this really is the closest I have to anything to show for it. For the 'on their knees' prompt for Whumptober.

Anastasia was naive. She knew she was naive; that her view of the world was sheltered, but she never tried to change it. After all, she had no reason to. She was the youngest daughter of the Tsar of Cyberia! There was no reason for her to want to be concerned about anything else really. But that didn’t mean she never wondered about life outside of the Winter Palace. What would it be like to grow up in a normal family or in a normal home? What would it be like to have friends outside of the nobles she was designated to befriend? Would...Would she be happier? That wasn’t to say she wasn’t happy! Of course she was! Anastasia had everything a Cyberian princess needed to thrive! Private tutors, books, and even a violin to entertain herself with. She got to wear pretty dresses and smile. She lived a good life. Though, she supposed the so-called ‘commoners’ did as well to a lesser extent. After all, her father  _ was _ the greatest Tsar Cyberia had ever known! At least that’s what her tutors told her and why would they lie? 

She wished she had questioned it sooner. She wished she hadn’t been so ignorant. Whilst her family lived in luxury, the people of Cyberia lived in poverty. They were angry, tired, and ready to revolt. Only, how was Anastasia supposed to know that? As far as she knew, the people adored her father! As far as she knew, he wouldn’t be the Final Tsar. But for all she was well-educated and taught, she didn’t know much. Not really. Not anything that mattered. 

All she knew was to smile and be kind and be quiet. That was her role as a princess. It would be her role as a wife too when she was inevitably married off. After all, her eighteenth birthday was vastly approaching and there were many with their eye set on the Tsar’s youngest daughter. Even with her...complications. Anastasia had always been a sickly child and an unstable health continued to follow her as she reached adulthood. Still, none would ever give up the chance to get in the Tsar’s good graces.

Not that she ever got the chance to indulge any of them. Revolution always seemed to get in the way of the wishes of the monarchy. By the time Anastastia learnt something was wrong, it was far too late to intercede. There were people at the gates of the Winter Palace and they were angry. They were full of a rage that Anastasia never thought herself able to understand. (Though, one day she would and she would return that rage tenfold onto those that had betrayed her family). But still, she managed to stay her father’s hand. She was a foolish young girl that knew nothing of war or violence. To her, stopping the slaughter of the revolutionaries would bring peace. It would calm them. But it didn’t, and her family paid the ultimate price. 

Anastasia had tried to escape; tried to get away from it all. Her mother had made sure of it. Perhaps...Perhaps she could find those that still sympathised with her family. Perhaps she could find safety. But she did not get far. They caught her and she found herself locked away with her mother and siblings. There was no sign of her father (and none of them were foolish to ask for him). Anastasia had never dealt with the cold well, but the cell her family found themselves in was  _ freezing _ . Maria and Tatiana had taken to staying as close as they could to their sister’s side, trying to keep her warm in their arms. She watched as her mother and Olga did the same for Alexei. But the six did not come together. The soldiers didn’t like it when they showed any true unity.  _ They wanted the Romanovs scared _ . 

Then the six of them were led outside of their cell and told to kneel facing the wall. Anastasia knew what would happen next. They were going to die. This was it. She tried to glance over at the others; to see their faces one last time but all it earned her was a slap from one of the soldiers. Anastasia sat as still as a statue after that. It was as the soldiers began to speak of their execution that she realised they were drunk. Their words were slurred and they were laughing amongst themselves - as if they weren’t mere seconds away from murder. 

The soldiers announced a game of Cyberian Roulette. She had heard of it before but had never been stupid enough to play it. One gun. Five bullets. One empty chamber. One of them would get out of this alive. She silently begged and pleaded to whatever god-like being out there that it was one of the others; that her family would survive.

The first shot fired. Her mother slumped forward dead. The second shot fired. Olga slumped forward dead. The third shot fired. Tatiana slumped forward dead. The fourth shot fired. Maria slumped forward dead. The fifth shot fired. Alexei slumped forward dead. The sixth shot fired. Anastasia was left kneeling. She was not dead. 

She did not move as her family lay dead around her. She did not move as Alexei’s blood soaked into the bottom of her dress. She did not move as the soldiers tried to taunt her. “A tragedy, dear princess. It’s not just your health that is terrible, but your luck too.” What...What did he mean? She was the last one alive! Surely that was lucky? Then the bullets began to pierce her skin and Anastasia understood. The others had been given fast deaths; painless deaths. But she was left to suffer. She was left to die slowly and painfully. And as the soldiers left, she was left to die alone. 

Anastasia had always had issues with blood. Even a small paper cut would just bleed and bleed. Haemophilia, she had once heard it called. Her blood would not clot. That was truer now more than ever as it gushed around. There was so much of it. If she were outside, perhaps she could have even mistook it for rain. But she was not. She was locked away and alone with only the dead for company. 

When the door opened, she assumed it to merely be a guard coming to finish her off. What she wasn’t expecting was an oddly dressed man with the devil’s grin. Just like her, he was covered in blood. Unlike her, it didn’t look like it was his own. He was muttering to himself. “Really don’t know why the fuck she sent me down here. What the hell am I supposed to find amongst a bunch of fucking dead royals?” He snorted. “Honestly, it’s jus- Oh.” His eyes met hers. “Hello.” 

If she had the strength, Anastasia would have shrunk back as he approached. But she had no strength anymore. She was weak and growing more tired by the second. “Please…” She didn’t know what she was begging him for. Was she begging him to leave her alone? Was she begging him to finish her off quickly? Or...Or was she begging him to somehow save her?

As he grew closer, the man’s face softened as he knelt by her side. He offered her his hand and for whatever reason, Anastasia took it. If these were to be her final moments then she would gladly indulge in any form of comfort. “...What’s your name?” 

She hesitated for a moment. “...Nastya.” It was a nickname her mother had given her; one that she looked back on fondly. It was also distant enough from Anastasia. Even if she was going to die, she knew it was best to distance herself from the royal name. 

“Johnny.” He introduced back, giving her hand a gentle squeeze. Johnny watched her for a movement, gently pulling her closer. He was warm. Anastasia always liked the warmth. As he stayed with her, a look of conflict crossed his face. Finally, Johnny settled on a decision. “...Tell me, Nastya. Do you want to live?” She had barely enough strength left to say yes. 

It was in Johnny’s arms that Anastasia Romanov died. 

It was on a cold table in Dr. Carmilla’s lab that Nastya Rasputina was born. 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are appreciated or hmu @ desert-lily on tumblr


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